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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27496981">A Conflict Of Everything (Interest Notwithstanding)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkyandness/pseuds/inkyandness'>inkyandness</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hot Guy P.I. (Webcomic), Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Autistic Castiel (Supernatural), Autistic Schmidt, Case Fic, I swear these relationships are end-game just give me 5 minutes, M/M, Schmando said ACAB</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:09:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,303</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27496981</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkyandness/pseuds/inkyandness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Don’t you think this might just be a case a little too tall for us to take on?”<br/>What do you mean?” Schmidt asked.<br/>“Schmidt, it’s a missing person’s case, shouldn’t the police be handling this?”<br/>“Doesn’t a person have to be missing for 72 hours before you’re allowed to call it in as a missing person’s case?”<br/>"What, no, that’s a myth. I think.”<br/>“Oh!” Schmidt said, brightly. “That’s neat. That’s good to know for if I ever go missing.”<br/>Nando doesn’t really know what to do with that, so he says nothing.</p><p>“These are the worst undercover cops I’ve ever seen.”</p><p>Schmidt and Nando think they're taking on an -- admittedly more difficult than usual -- case, but since when would the FBI get involved with anything that they're investigating? </p><p>(This is @gayfee's fault.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Schmidt &amp; Nando Sy, Schmidt/Nando Sy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Must A Work Have A Chapter Name? Can't We Just Vibe.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It’s been a while!! I do plan on updating that ball-dancing fic, bc it felt like such a sad place to leave it off, but then I found out from Cam on Twitter that Karina’s at least vaguely interested in a destiel crossover fic, and considering my brain is in a state where I’ve been forced to come to grips that I have not had the opportunity to change much since I was 13, we’re doing this baby!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Don’t you think this might just be a case a little too tall for us to take on?”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Schmidt asked.</p><p>Nando sighed. He supposed everybody wanted to do something <em>“important”</em> with their lives, something meaningful and with purpose, but he was also at least somewhat self aware that with 7 billion people in the world, the chance that he was going to be the one to incite said important things was less likely than getting struck by lightning every day for the rest of his life — which if he was going to be struck by lightning every day, probably wouldn’t be that long.</p><p>With that morbid concept in mind, Nando had somewhat “made peace” with the idea of obscurity. Not mediocrity or anything like that, but the idea that anything he did that he considered important to a larger world would be as important as anybody else’s, hence, the idea of obscurity.</p><p>Which is what made Nando a little bit surprised that their little detective agency was picking up steam. Not enough to be notable, but enough to be known. It was kind of interesting, but it wasn’t really what he was wanting or planning to do with his life.</p><p>He didn’t really <em>want </em>to dedicate his life to solving the frivolous crimes of the internet, finding people’s lost dogs or exposing YouTuber scandals, or that weird incident with the taxidermy shop.</p><p>He couldn’t deny that being able to blow the lid on an embezzlement scheme through a minor YouTuber convention wasn’t cool, but for every “serious crime” they got to solve, there was at least 50 other disappointing requests in their inbox. Mostly about suspicions of cheating or grounds for divorce kind of legalese that gave Nando a layer of not just second-hand embarrassment — given how abnormally well his divorce went, and what he was beginning to wonder said about him — but perhaps a level of third-hand embarrassment, if that was even possible.</p><p>However, Nando couldn’t deny that these simple mysteries were what he and Schmidt could handle. They were detectives with a gimmick, not Dick Tracy’s. They had their skills, and they had their place, but nobody was going to ask them to help take down a government regime, and he was all the happier for it.</p><p>Still, this was not in their skillset, and this was not their place.</p><p>“Schmidt, it’s a <em>missing person’s case, </em>shouldn’t the police be handling this?”</p><p>Said missing person was Holly Sanders, make-up effects artist and girlfriend of famous YouTuber, Ivy Warner, better known by her username “TomeofTheKnown,” where she reviewed books and ranked local town’s antique stores by which ones seemed to be the most haunted.</p><p>Schmidt seemed to be handling the severity of the case well, to his credit, but, then again, unless Schmidt was making the conscious act of expressing emotions his face could be very hard to read.</p><p>“Doesn’t a person have to be missing for 72 hours before you’re allowed to call it in as a missing person’s case?”</p><p>“What, no, that’s a myth. I think.”</p><p>“Oh!” Schmidt said, brightly. “That’s neat. That’s good to know for if I ever go missing.”</p><p>Nando doesn’t really know what to do with that, so he says nothing.</p><p>“However, due to both the missing person and the one who called us in having participated in relatively small protests that have been raided by the police, with outstanding warrants on their heads because of it, they have some concerns about getting law enforcement involved.” Schmidt said looking up from his phone, with a grave serious tone. “At best, she could get arrested. That’s a bad spot to be in.”</p><p>“Looks like somebody got to her first.” Nando said, nudging Schmidt to look up as three men stepped out of a car in front of Ivy’s house. Because Ivy lived only a few blocks away from their detective office in a suburban stretch of the town, Nando thought the walk couldn’t hurt, all thing’s considered.</p><p>Maybe it had after all.</p><p>There were three men, and given that Nando could only see the back of their heads, they didn’t seem all that remarkable. One was tall and lanky with long hair, one was shorter with blonde, and the other one might’ve been slightly taller with black hair. Two of them wore suits. One of them wore a trenchcoat.</p><p>“These are the worst undercover cops I’ve ever seen.” Schmidt murmured as he picked up the pace. “If they’re even cops at all. There’s no way that’s a regulation vehicle, and there’s no way they’d let an officer have their hair that long.”</p><p>“So, if they’re not cops, what, are they there to finish the job?” Nando remarked with horror as he moved into a quicker gait to walk across the street as the men talked loudly amongst themselves, strolling up the drive.</p><p>“I don’t know.” Schmidt sounded unsure.</p><p>Really, really unsure.</p><p>Nando was used to Schmidt not knowing basic things, Nando was used to him making bad, hardly-thought out decisions, but at least they were made with a sense of <em>confidence </em>to them. There was something bad about hearing Schmidt sound almost nervous, and it made him feel bad all the same.</p><p>By the time they reached the middle of the drive, the men were on the doorstep, ringing the doorbell. They had since grown quiet, which was also not preferable when it came to trying to learn what these guy’s deal were. Were they just weird, out of state cops? Kidnappers? Family of Holly or Ivy? There was no way to be sure until one of them opened their mouths again.</p><p>Ivy opened the door, but did not unlock it from the chain and deadbolt.</p><p>“Hello ma’am, I’m Agent Smith, this is Agent Wesson and Agent Siken, we’re here to ask questions about Holly Sander’s disappearance.” Said one of the men with a tone Nando could only describe as loud and callous.</p><p>Ivy closed the door.</p><p>“Told you we shouldn’t have let him pick his own name.”</p><p>“Dean…” A sympathetic voice chided, sounding more like a tired parent than anything else.</p><p>“What’s wrong with it?” Said the third, who sounded like he smoked a whole pack of razor blades every morning, sounding at least a little surly.</p><p>The man — presumably Dean — rung the bell again, and the men quickly composed themselves once more.</p><p>And again.</p><p>And again.</p><p>Nando liked to believe he was a smart man who made good decisions, but he was also half convinced that he was going to have to figure out a way to defend against three potential kidnappers who could all potentially be carrying half an artillery in their pockets — potentially all by himself — so, maybe the euphoria of not going out like Bonnie and Clyde made him want to provoke a fight in its own right.</p><p>You know, potentially.</p><p>He isn’t going to pretend that he understood the actions that he took in that moment, but, the point is, he really did just say —“She doesn’t want to talk to you. Chill out with ringing the bell, what are you, Quasimodo?” — to three FBI agents, who are basically just cops with better state funding as is, and twice the chances of murdering him now.</p><p>They turned around to look at them, in varying degrees of blankness, shock, and angry in a way that read as almost confused, in a way.</p><p>“Dean, I do not recall you-“</p><p>“Not now, Cas.” The tall man said, quietly.</p><p>“And who do you happen to be?” The man, Dean apparently, asked, turning around to walk towards them.</p><p>“Who do <em>you </em>happen to be?” Schmidt asked, blocking Nando as he took a step forward.</p><p>“Agent Dean Smith of the FBI,” he said, holding up his ID and badge. Nando couldn’t help but notice that this Dean guy didn’t exactly allow much time for it to be scrutinized, but he did hold it up relatively close to Schmidt’s face.</p><p>“Uh huh, uh huh, yeah. What’s your badge number? Without looking at it.”</p><p>The man seemed startled by the question. And the way that the two men still standing on the porch just turned to look at each other made them look more like a failing Vaudeville routine than your average bad fake cops.</p><p>“Uh, listen y-“</p><p>“Uh huh, uh huh, yeah, nice talking to you Agent #04237598763F.” Schmidt turned to face Nando, but Dean grabbed his shoulder, which was certainly a surprise to Nando to say the least.</p><p>“And who do you two happen to be?”</p><p>“Well,” Nando piped up. “Although we have no reason to tell you this, given that we are neither under arrest nor court of law, we’re…family. Of the victim. We’re here to lend our support.”</p><p>“I’m sure you can understand our concern when three angry men are on my dear frie-cousin’s porch on the verge of harassing her after such a traumatic incident.” Schmidt recited, even with his minor slip-up, he sounded as if he knew the role he was supposed to play.</p><p>Dean gave a small laugh. “Well, my apologies, but if you know anything about what happened, it-“</p><p>“Nice try, buddy.” Nando said, giving Dean two pats on the shoulder as he and Schmidt strode boldly forward. The taller man began walking towards Dean and stepped off the porch, but the man in the trench coat - Cal, was it? - hesitated.</p><p>Nando caught his gaze for a second before he too made space for them on the porch. There was something startlingly like Schmidt in his gaze. Something a little confused, but determined. Maybe a little angry? Maybe a little dazed. It’s not like Nando was going to contemplate it long.</p><p>When the men made the decision to reconvene in their car, that was when Nando felt the safest about ringing the doorbell, which did indeed get opened after the initial one-up inspection with an, “oh, thank god” as they stepped inside.</p><p> </p><p>———</p><p> </p><p>“I’m telling you Sam, there’s something weird about these guys.” Dean said, fidgeting with the steering wheel.</p><p>“How weird is it for family to visit after a tragedy?” Sam asked. “I mean, given how there’s nothing reporting on it, maybe they just want to keep the whole ordeal hush-hush until they know how to handle it. Maybe having the <em>FBI </em>show up for a case that isn’t even supposed to exist is what rattled them.”</p><p>“Oh sure, and we’d have better luck at the front door if we were anything else? Perhaps your local priest, or birthday clowns? They questioned the badges, Sammy. Nobody’s questioned the badges before.”</p><p>“More people are questioning the badges now more than ever, after all. They’re young enough to know better.”</p><p>“Oh, get your head out of your ass.”</p><p>Cas said nothing. It wasn’t like this was the first petty argument he’d seen between the brothers, it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Still, even just from witnessing the scene from afar, it was easy to tell that these guys weren’t who they appeared to be. They were clearly human, but that wasn’t what he was talking about. He couldn’t place exactly what it was, but there was definitely this air of…unearned authority around them? Like they knew they were supposed to be there, and they certainly knew they weren’t. Perhaps this was more obvious than Castiel knew, but if it was, the brothers certainly weren’t letting him in on it.</p><p>Not that that was exactly new, but Cas knew better than to try to resent them for it at this point. Some things came more obvious to them than they did for him, it wasn’t their fault he couldn’t be in on the same joke.</p><p>“Bottomline, those guys are sketchy as shit. There’s no way they aren’t a part of the case somehow.”</p><p>“I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”</p><p> </p><p>———</p><p> </p><p>“Those guys are suspicious as Hell.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah.”</p><p>“There’s no way they don’t have something to do with this.”</p><p>“Guess we better keep an eye on them and their out-of-state plates, huh.”</p><p>“As you do, of course.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Investigation Chapter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ivy looked like the general concept of a middle school librarian. Frizzy hair, big glasses, and a long scarf that covered her entire face outside of her eyes and hair.</p><p>“I hope you don’t mind if I dressed up for you. I don’t usually dress like this when I’m receiving company.” She said, casually. “I understand that I’m a public figure whether I like it or not, but my privacy is very important to me, and considering what’s happened recently…”</p><p>“Miss Warner,”</p><p>“I want to maintain what little of it I have before the scent is picked up by the-” she sounded as if she was about to begin crying, but Nando placed a cautious hand on her frail shoulder.</p><p>“That’s perfectly fine.” Nando nodded, smiling in a way he hoped was sympathetic. He could understand that. He could understand a lot of where she was coming from. Not everybody who played the social media circuit were necessarily open to having their lives on display, let alone their lives in their entirety.</p><p>Schmidt was curiously highly aware of that, on some level. Nando was in the marketing campaign for Hot Guy PI, of course, but his appearances were sparse. Not because Nando was <em>inherently </em>against it — just cautious, what with Nadia and all, — but due to same vague and intangible worry that Schmidt had that he had never felt the need to share with Nando.</p><p>Probably something to do with his image, or something. He had cool dad fashion, not <em>cool </em>fashion, after all, as Nadia loved to remind him. It was probably something frivolous like that.</p><p>“The car hasn’t left yet.” Schmidt muttered, peering through the windows. “They might be doing a stakeout.”</p><p>“Aren’t stakeouts supposed to be subtle, at least?”</p><p>“Brilliant.” Ivy groaned, burrowing her face into her scarf. “Just brilliant. Just what I <em>NEED </em>after Holly goes missing are a roving band of cops to watch my every move. Because it’s not like THAT’S suspicious.“</p><p>“We don’t think they’re cops, though, to be fair.”</p><p>“Is that good or bad news?” Nando asked.</p><p>“I don’t even know anymore.” Ivy said. “It’s not like they’re going to get me outside, so I don’t know what their plan even is anymore, but it does worry me.”</p><p>“Why don’t we talk about the case for now, and, if they’re still there when we’re done—“ Nando began, not really knowing how he was going to finish that sentence until Schmidt swooped in with a “I’ll call up one of my friends, and she’ll read them their rights.”</p><p>“What about anything that I just said makes you think I want another cop —“</p><p>“Oh, no. I assure you he means it literally.” Nando recovered. “He means his friend will literally read them their legal rights.”</p><p>“Is that not what that means? But then what about the bar…?” Schmidt looked like an oddly betrayed puppy dog in that moment, and Nando couldn’t help but find something…<em>there </em>behind his eyes. He wasn’t sure what, and sure wasn’t going to define it, but it was there, and it made him feel something.</p><p>He was not going to address it.</p><p>Ivy sighed, he was sure she was beginning to regret her decision in calling them specifically up, but nonetheless, seemed to accept it for what it was.</p><p>“Alright then, what do you want to know? Because I’m afraid I don’t really have much for you.” Ivy began. “All I know is that Holly went out to do a gig for some indie movie, came home a few nights ago frantic and raving, saying anything from “I never loved you because my heart knows another” to “I can never go home” only to be whisked away in the night with the shatter of glass.” She sighed. It sounded bitter, and it sounded sad, but no tears were shed.</p><p>“I wish I felt less. I wish I felt <em>more.</em>” She continued. “But when one becomes so well-acquainted with distress and tragedy, at some point it stops even feeling like distress and tragedy.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Nando asked. “If it’s alright to pry.”</p><p>“I’m a recluse for a <em>reason. </em>Now I know that even in my own home I can’t be safe.”</p><p>“Don’t worry,” Nando said. “We’ll do everything we can to make sure you’re safe, and that Holly comes home.”</p><p>“May we see the window?” Schmidt asked. She acquiesced and the two of them followed them to Holly’s room. Schmidt gave his arm a bump and whispered a slight “thanks for comforting her” as they walked up the stairs. It seemed that Schmidt had come to realize that the social aspect of the classic detective story wasn’t his strong suit. Quite a lot of it didn’t seem like his strong suit, but it felt inappropriate to get into it.</p><p>Holly’s room was basically like her art studio or office, Ivy explained. It’s where she’d film videos, work on various pieces, and may even sleep if she was having a particularly productive or stressful night. She soon left them to their own devices, with the promise that they wouldn’t snoop through any of Ivy’s stuff, as that tended to make her a bit more neurotic than she generally liked.</p><p>“She seems nice.” Schmidt said, as astute as ever, as he began to poke through some of the bottles of various liquids Holly kept on her vanity while Nando took a look at the window.</p><p>“Well, it seems like someone came in rather than Ivy trying to get out.”</p><p>“How do you know that?” Schmidt asked.</p><p>Nando gestured towards the pile of broken glass on the floor. “If the impact happened from the inside, the glass would be outside. Therefore, the impact probably happened from the outside.”</p><p>Schmidt shrugged. “There could still be some glass outside.”</p><p>“What, did the window spontaneously combust or something?”</p><p>Schmidt gave another non-committal shrug as he squeezed a bottle, muttering about it either being whiskey or perfume, but not knowing which. Nando rolled his eyes. It always felt like a 50-50 split on whether he was going to get the <em>serious, astute Detective Schmidt </em>who knew exactly how a noose was tied and what kind of wine somebody in this or that demographic would drink which could expose an entire affair, or if he was just going to get <em>Schmidt, </em>who thought that “<em>Spy Kids” </em>was a documentary and had never eaten a peach before. This toss-up made dealing with people hard, and investigations even harder.</p><p>“Who’s breaking in through the 2nd story window?” Nando asked aloud. “Someone who can fly?”</p><p>“You know how in rom-coms, kids’ll throw rocks at each other’s windows to get their attention? Maybe it’s something like that.”</p><p>Nando shrugged. “Maybe, but Ivy made it sound like as soon as she heard the glass shatter, Holly was gone.”</p><p>“Nando, what does that even <em>mean?” </em>Schmidt sighed. “That could be a huge gap of time. Even 10 seconds is enough to get <em>something </em>done.” Schmidt sat down in a swivel chair and seemed to ponder as Nando gazed out the window.</p><p>The car had moved, at the very least. Nando didn’t even know if this was a good or bad thing considering that as likely as it was for them to leave, there was also the chance that they had simply hidden it — of course, how’d they do something like that when their big, black vintage car stood out like a sore thumb on this suburban stretch, he wasn’t sure, but it was always a possibility.</p><p>“What do you think about those fake FBI guys?” Nando asked Schmidt as he tried to review the little information they had as he combed through his memory for clues. All of his thoughts felt so jumbled, he felt so unfocused that it looped back to being focused again, and he hated it. “I mean, it’d be weird if the cops showed up for an unreported missing person’s case, but the FBI? That’s like calling in a brain surgeon for a paper cut they didn’t even know you had.”</p><p>“It’s weird that there’s three of them.” Schmidt said.</p><p>“Right?’</p><p>“And it’s weird that only one of them seemed especially committed to their backstory.”</p><p>“Eh, committed, outright hostile, same thing, right?” Nando shrugged. “Do you think there’s a chance that they’re responsible for the disappearance?”</p><p>“You mean that they kidnapped Holly, and are now trying to loop back around and cover up their tracks? It’s always possible, though it’s not like Ivy made reference to any ransom, or anything like that, so the whole thing is up in the air, really.” Schmidt explained.</p><p>“Ivy did mention that Holly was acting incoherent, saying things like she couldn’t go home or didn’t love her anymore, maybe she was trying to cover something up? Like an affair or crime or something like that?” Nando sighed. “They could be our best lead.”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s just…why the FBI thing? They could get by just as easy pretending to be a state trooper or cop. Why FBI?”</p><p>“Something’s definitely not adding up here.”</p><p>“You know, I could always send Joey the plate numbers. She’s friends with someone who could run them. There’s a good chance they’re in the system, and a better chance that those plate numbers are under their names.”</p><p>“And if they’re not?”</p><p>“Then we can add “car thieves” to their list of petty crimes, I guess.”</p><p>“Wait, do you really think stealing cars and pretending to be law enforcement are just “petty” crimes? What did you get up to in your youth?” Nando laughed.</p><p>“Perfectly normal activities.”</p><p>“Well, when you say it like that, you definitely sound like you murder people for fun.”</p><p>———</p><p>Schmidt and Nando left the home soon afterwards, out of the fear of not being able to take the case seriously if they were about to razz each other over their potentially delinquency-filled youths, with the vaguest hint of a clue and a trio of suspects that could be half the way to Hackensack by now.</p><p>They stood in front of the house, Nando gave the street the once-over to watch for pedestrians, or perhaps the occasional vintage car that one may be able to spot zooming down the street, but nothing seemed to strike him as especially peculiar. Schmidt seemed to stare straight ahead, not really seeing anything at all.</p><p>“What are we going to do if we can’t find her?”</p><p>“We’ll do what we can.” Nando said. “If we can’t bring her home, then we’ll bring her to justice. Right?” He bumped Schmidt’s arm like he had done to him before in what he assumed was a reassuring motion, and began to walk down the drive.</p><p>Schmidt couldn’t help but feel. What he felt, wasn’t something he felt he could examine in a way that could make it mean something, but he did know he felt something. He was certain of that.</p><p>But why examine it more than that?</p><p>When he knew, he figured he’d know.</p><p>Maybe he already did.</p><p>———</p><p>“Look, maybe we shouldn’t make it any more than it is. We’ve had four murders so far, and this is presumably the fifth. The thing isn’t slowing its roll, whatever it is, and we might just be uh —<em> what’s the word</em> — magnifying this more than we should just because this is the one victim we got blowback from.” Sam said, looking up from his computer. “What are the chances that this is the lynchpin of the entire case?”</p><p>“You know we can’t take that chance.” Dean looked up from where he was sharpening his knife at the motel’s crappy wooden desk.</p><p>“I <em>know, </em>but we can’t just turn this into a wild goose chase just because you got sassed by some <em>20-something</em> with earrings.” Sam snickered.</p><p>“This guy knew that we didn’t belong there, what if he called the cops on us, huh? What are we going to do then?”</p><p>Cas continued to read through his book. It wasn’t on anything particularly case-related, but with how often the brothers seemed to be going at it lately, he was…well, not <em>desperate </em>for a reprieve from them — you didn’t exactly turn against the only family you’ve had since the beginning of the universe’s conception itself if you couldn’t stand being in the same room as your “current” family for two weeks — but even Cas found <em>Moby Dick </em>to be less inane than this. It felt like there was something else they were fighting over by arguing about this, but he couldn’t say what.</p><p>The men were obviously suspects. They just weren’t certain if they were of the paranormal variety. Cas had a better sense for it than they did, clearly, but he was really just guessing.</p><p>The “20-something” Sam had mentioned, for instance, seemed to act on the same wavelength that Cas was. In the way that he stood and talked and moved like his body wasn’t his own, but something he was wearing. He might’ve accessorized far more than Cas ever would, but he had that same sort of blankness Cas saw within his own face that he just couldn’t shake.</p><p>Then there was the other one, with bright, captivating brown eyes that carried a boldness, a <em>focus,</em> that Cas was familiar with, but couldn’t quite place. Didn’t want to place. Didn’t want to admit he could place. Although he was certain he was human — <em>quite possibly reminiscent of the most human person he had ever met </em>— Cas couldn’t help but feel like there was something more to him that needed further observation in order to really suss out.</p><p>Regardless, Cas couldn’t help but have the strangest feeling that this might’ve been their first confrontation, but unfortunately — for possibly both parties — not their last.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope my SPN characterization is alright! They weren’t really featured in this chapter, as this is more “Hot Guy PI solve a mystery and also the men from Supernatural are also there” but I have decided to pick up some old fics to really figure out what these guys were like because I don’t trust my memory, which is basically just playing a game of telephone and hoping that I won’t be under scrutiny for it. I’m not rewatching Supernatural for this.</p><p>Also I’m on that autistic!Castiel - autistic!Schmidt wavelength, folks. Because there’s something so funny about Cas being the first angel introduced and setting a precedent, until you’re forced to learn that Cas is weird, even by angel standards. Also I’m autistic and I like them, so they are.</p><p>Tumblr: juliastartoons.tumblr.com<br/>Kofi: https://ko-fi.com/juliastartoons</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I don’t know if their attitudes towards the Supernatural cast is me just bullying my past self for being naive enough to like the show, and just finding it hilarious now, but I do think that they just would not get along with the exception of if it was like an extremely short or banal encounter at like a fast food restaurant or library. </p><p>Their stupid energies could only lead to antagonism in basically every other situation, is what I’m trying to say.</p><p>Juliastartoons.tumblr.com<br/>Kofi: https://ko-fi.com/juliastartoons</p></blockquote></div></div>
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